On The Streets I Ran Lyrics - Ringleader Of The Tormentors - Morrissey

Oh a working class face glares back 

At me from the glass and lurches 

Oh forgive me, on the streets I ran 

Turned sickness into popular song 

Streets of wet black holes 

On roads you can never know 

You never have been but they always have you 

Till the day that you croak 

It's no joke 

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Oh a working class face glares back 

At me from the glass and lurches 

Oh forgive me on the streets I ran 

Turned sickness into unpopular song 

And all these streets can do 

Is to claim to know the real you 

And warn if you don't leave you will kill or be killed 

Which isn't very nice 

Here everybody's friendly 

But nobody's friends 

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Oh dear God, when will I be where I should be 

And when the palmist said 

"One Thursday you will be dead" 

I said: "No, not me, this cannot be 

Dear God, take him, take them, take anyone 

The stillborn 

The newborn 

The infirm 

Take anyone 

Take people from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 

Just spare me!"